The More Things Change
by Gangsta Videl
Summary: Kabutoverse. In some aspects, the years have been hard on Kazama Daisuke. In others, not so much.


_The More Things Change... _

_+note: _I wonder how many people will understand the joke at the end? It's something that is possibly only funny if you start reading from the dictionary at three in the morning, as I did.

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- - -

In some aspects, the years had been hard on Kazama Daisuke. Oh no, he was still just as fit and good-looking as he had always been, that couldn't change even in the course of a full decade. Yet there he lay, flat on his back, a terrible grimace spreading across his face. The reason why was really quite the simple one, though at present he could see nothing but complications.

"It's not happening," the man said at last. Admitting to the problem, that was the first step, right? Not that he cared. He was angry at himself for it. "We'll ... try again some other time."

Daisuke's answer was met with a small sigh. "It's always the same. What's with you lately?"

"Don't know." He shook his head and closed his eyes. "It'll pass."

The words scarcely had time to leave his mouth. Just as he said it, that momentum struck him low in his abdomen. The old familiar rush that came with this moment, when the woman leaned in low and her shirt fell open as she draped lazily over his torso ...

"Oi, come back."

Ah, yes. Slowly the seductive smile came back to his lips. No wonder, what with the way her long legs felt as they slid over his, and the touch of her graceful hands splayed on his chest. Even the little way her hips moved had his attention going. Thinking like that... Daisuke could really start to like where this was headed, if the sounds he was making were any judge.

His fingers slipped carefully around her hips, though he kept somewhat mindful of the elastic at her waistband. It would be better to ease into that part, Daisuke thought. Not that he was thinking things through anymore. Up and down, he carefully traced the outline of her body. As his fingers brushed her ribcage he slipped them around, gentle touches implemented just to tease.

She liked it. She had to have, because she was moving lower, into his hands. The artist kept his hands in place for only a moment longer before opening his eyes once more--

And it was that decision which brought him right back to square one and made the pit of his stomach gnarl uncomfortably. "Ngh." One stupid idea, and the moment was gone. Stupid. He threw an arm over his face in disgust.

His reaction brought about yet another sigh. "Again?"

"... Again."

Her legs bumped his, and the man felt rather than saw her lay next to him. The young woman kindly patted his shoulder. Still he refused to look until she had curled into him, her small arms wrapping around his neck and draping on his chest.

"It's okay. It happens. We can just cuddle tonight."

Daisuke's scowl turned upon the pretty dark-haired girl. He was tired and the bitterness was just too hard to maintain. Instead, he simply groaned internally pulled an arm around her back. His fingers combed through her hair, catching cloth the more they went.

"This," he said after some time, "could be the problem. You know? Some kind of... ah... "

"Trigger," she finished. The girl nodded into his chest. Daisuke tugged the hat away instead of replying as usual, and she let him. "Don't worry so much. We're different now."

She drifted to sleep still entangled with his body. Staying with her now wasn't like what it used to be, he supposed. She was more than right about that. But as he was forced to lay quietly and watch someone else comfortably sleep while he was too cramped to try, and as her chest rose and fell with each breath, Kazama Daisuke had little else to do but sigh. Of all the changes he had to try to get used to, he'd picked the largest mountain. And the wind, as he knew, couldn't take down a mountain alone.

His thoughts were interrupted only as Yuriko forcibly kneed him in the thigh, then pressed her breasts more tightly to his side in dreaming.

"Daisuke, no," she muttered, "the word isn't 'lingae', please re... mmmember... "

There was no doubt about it. In the case of Kazama Daisuke, time was absolutely _cruel._


End file.
